


Old Stars

by mythomagicallydelicious



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Memory Loss, Memory Magic, Post Crystal Kingdom, stars of every plane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 10:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30104643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythomagicallydelicious/pseuds/mythomagicallydelicious
Summary: This is very similar but a somewhat expanded piece to "A Sky So Unfamiliar," but only Merle's point of view.
Relationships: Merle Highchurch & Starblaster Crew
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Old Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This is very similar but a somewhat expanded piece to "A Sky So Unfamiliar," but only Merle's point of view.

Merle flops gracelessly onto the cool grass of the Bureau’s main dome. His muscles ache, and he lets the cool dew on the lawn soothe him. He detaches his tree arm, planting it in the earth with one hand. Granting his fingernails another coat of mud and dirt.

He rubs the stump of his arm, sighing in relief. It didn’t hurt, necessarily, but it was nice to take it off. His arm gets all sweaty where it connects, and sometimes he just wants some distance from it.

He sighs again, tilting his head back, staring above him. Listening to the night sounds always used to do him good. He wishes he was on a beach, but. Well. His home beach is a bit too much to go back to at the moment. Too many of his mistakes to slap him in the face when all he wants is to sit and listen to the ocean.

But the stars. A clean slate. Shining bright and distant above him. He’s never done shit to the stars.

A low sound washes over him, like a soft static. A fly buzzing in his ear. He tilts his head to let it fly past. A chorus of crickets chirp and the low hum of power from the magical firelight blazes in a lamp post twenty yards away.

He listens to it all, considering the skies above him.

He’s never done shit to the stars, he thinks again.

That fly buzzes past his ear again, flying closer, louder. Maybe a couple of them. He scoots back in the grass, hoping they’ll fly on their way.

He blinks the temporary disturbance away, refocusing on the sky overhead. He traces constellations in his mind. It was one of the first things he can remember learning, the stars. Someone with a hand-drawn star chart beside an official chart. Several hands creating their own designs in the swirl of stars on the pages before them. He remembers a stern voice telling them to stick to the official charts to start with. Stern but warm. Laughing with them, but firm. In charge.

It’s been too many years since Pan Camp, he thinks. Can’t even remember the guy’s name.

Merle blinks, and he can’t find the constellation he’d been staring at before his mind drifted.

“I’m getting too damn old,” he says to nobody. He searches a different stretch of sky and watches a pinprick of light blink out.

“Must’ve been a ship— _shit!_ ” Merle swipes at his ear as he feels the flies buzz straight into one of them, loud and rattling his thoughts around until he clears them from the area. It’s irritating, but finally they buzz off, his mind clear as he lays back into the grass.

He closes his eyes to the sights above him and sleeps.

Above him, one or two more pinpricks of light blink out, fading from existence. Consumed by a growing darkness he can’t remember.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
